Level Four
by SeverEstHolmes
Summary: In the pursuit of magical creatures and facing decisions (or perhaps avoiding decisions) that will shape his entire life - Phelan Noel finds out that sometimes things don't work out the way you intended them to, but if you stick with it, you might just find what you're looking for! Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.


**A/N: Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.  
Beater 2 - Wimbourne Wasps.  
Prompt: Beast Division. (Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures).  
Optional prompts: 1. (word) ghost, 6. (word) specialty.  
**

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"Level four – Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau."

The doors of the lift clanged open to reveal a long corridor with several doors leading off to subsection offices; if Phelan Noel had been the only person in the lift on this particular morning he may have talked along imitatively with the cool voice which announced what was on each level – and he definitely would have sighed when it reached level four which he exited on. He had heard the level announcements so many times that he could probably recite it in his sleep, surely they could just get a plaque inside the lifts that would describe what was where, that would prevent the voice over. If he ever got to meet the witch who had recorded those voice overs he wasn't quite sure what he would say to her, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant…

"Another day…" Phelan murmured to himself, "Just one more day."

While Phelan had been at Hogwarts, he had always known he wanted to work with magical creatures, he felt a strange affinity to them – and Care of Magical Creatures had always been his best subject. At first he hadn't been sure what route he could take on leaving school, he loved working with _all _magical creatures, but if he wanted to study further then he would have to choose a speciality and he didn't feel qualified to do that yet.

After finishing seventh year, he had travelled for a few months and volunteered in a variety of places to try and get a feel for what he might like to spend the rest of his life doing. He had volunteered in Romania working with dragons, and spent time learning Mermish in Indonesia, then spent a month working and training hippogriffs in Canada. But none of these experiences had made it any clearer for him what he actually wanted to do – and he had returned home, confident in his decision to work with magical creatures, still unsure of a speciality to choose and now without a job…

He had thought it was an absolute godsend then, when an opening came up in the Ministry of Magic, in the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The job had been advertised as an apprentice administrator, and to Phelan it sounded like the perfect opportunity for him – it would be working in the department that looked after all magical creatures, and it would allow him to think and consider as well as gain money so that if he wanted to study further he would be able to. He had been overjoyed when he was invited to interview for the post, it had only been his second visit to the Ministry of Magic – and he had felt tingly all over as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. When he was offered the job, he decided it was destiny; that perhaps when he worked there he would have the chance to speak to other witches and wizards who had specialised, he could get their advice and make decisions about the rest of his working life – perhaps this job might allow him to progress, and become involved with nationwide legislation to protect magical creatures. It had all been incredibly exciting! At least, it had been exciting – until he actually began working for the department… Phelan realised very quickly that this post was no more than a "go-for" position. He had not expected that an administrator would have to get the lunches of all the senior members of the office, he hadn't expected to be a personal secretary – but in essence that was all he was.

Every morning his first task was to open all the mail that had accumulated overnight, continuing to sorting the mail that arrived during the day, sorting them into the relevant pile and then deliver them to the office and the person they were addressed to. Although that task sounded simple, it quite often took several hours to complete it; he had to open each letter and sort them into the in trays of each department, and while the interdepartmental memos were capable of finding the correct in trays, the letters sent in by the public or from other organisations and businesses were not as clever. It was unbelievable how many people couldn't seem to distinguish the difference between the Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions – he frequently opened a letter to find a complaint about a rogue or unwanted ghost, which was frustrating to say the least. The amount of individuals who didn't seem to know who to address their letter to, or which subsection of the Beast Division they wanted the letter to go to, and that fell to Phelan to determine. He was almost at the end of his tether with the monotony and frustration that this job hadn't turned out the way he thought it would' after four months of being letter opener, lunch collector, and tea and coffee maker he knew that this wasn't for him. He wanted to be outside, actually working with magical creatures, not inside opening letters about them. He had persevered until now because he thought it might get better, but that seemed to have been wishful thinking. Four months he had worked in this position, and he really tried to stick and it, but the longer he was there – the longer he had stuck at it, the unhappier he became. He was fed up of waking up at 6am to get to work early enough to make a dent in the mail before the rest of the staff arrived, he was fed up of the stupid voice in the lift and the constant clanging that he could hear from his desk. For the past couple of weeks he had found himself staring out of the tiny window, provided and programmed by magical maintenance. He wanted more than this…

He was pleased to find that some of the apprentices that had started at the same time as him, but located in other departments were also feeling a frustration at the lack of responsibility they had been given, or the absence of the possibility of progression. Yet even though they agreed with him that perhaps the job they were now doing wasn't exactly what they were now doing wasn't exactly what they had expected, they also made it clear that if they wanted results then they needed to stick at it. And that made Phelan feel even more lonely, because he couldn't deny that he wasn't happy. He spent several sleepless nights trying to consider what he should do about the whole situation. Should he leave and try and find something more suited to what he wanted to do? Or should he stick it out for a few more months and get enough money to go study more? He couldn't seem to stop thinking about it, and it was with a heavy heart that he wrote a letter of resignation over his weekend off to hand in.

Instead of feeling any kind of joy about the prospect of leaving the department, he just felt tired, and rather sad that things hadn't worked out the way he had wanted. His intention was to put his resignation letter into the last sorting of mail of the day so that he wouldn't have to face very many questions that day.

His desk was piled high with letters when he arrived, and he set about beginning to sort them. "Ghoul task force, disposal of dangerous creatures, ghoul task force, pest advisory board…" Phelan muttered to himself as he opened and checked each letter, dropping them neatly into each in tray. Every so often he would hear the clanging of the lift and the announcement of "Level four…" But he concentrated on his work, he just wanted to get today over with, it was nearly lunchtime by the time he had managed to sort and arrange all the letters, and one by one he took each in tray to the relevant office. He kicked the carpeted floor as he carried each pile along and handed it in, thinking about what he could have for his lunch. He was almost in a daydream as he handed most of them in, but he was broken out of his reverie by a voice as he placed the letters on a desk at the entrance to one of the offices.

"Thank you very much. Mr Noel is it?2 He asked, Phelan turned to look at the owner of the voice. It turned out to be coming from a rather old man, whose hair had clearly once been black but now was so peppered with white that it looked like he had several white streaks, he was smiling down at Phelan who felt slightly alarmed at the sudden interest being taken in him.

"Yes sir," He replied politely. "Phelan."

"I'm Clive Taraskin," He held out his hand which Phelan shook; he glanced quickly over his shoulders as though checking whether anyone would be able to hear. "You've been here nearly five months yes?" His voice had dropped about an octave; Phelan nodded his head, wondering where on earth this conversation was going. "I don't know whether you've thought about your placement yet…?"

"My what?" Phelan asked blankly. Mr Taraskin suddenly looked horrified, then his expression softened into sheepish embarrassment.

"It seems I may have pre-empted you being told…" He said suddenly, then shrugged and carried on. "When you get to five months you get put into placement in one of the offices, generally you get to choose what office you would like to go into, and if they are capable they take you on." He explained; Phelan felt his heart speeding up in his chest, this was exactly the kind of thing he had been expecting in this apprenticeship.

"Oh right!" His voice sounded calmer than his insides felt.

"I know you're spoilt for choice in the Beast Division because there are so many subsections, but I wanted to let you know that we've been paying attention in the dragon research and restraint bureau! We've been rather impressed by the way you've handled dealing with the desk and administration duties!" Mr Taraskin smiled down at Phelan.

"I – well – thank you!" Phelan felt his cheeks going warm at the compliment he was being paid.

"We'd be delighted if you wanted to come and join us in here!" Mr Taraskin continued. "There is quite a few practical elements to this department, visiting sites, checking the status of wild dragons and putting memory modifications on muggles who've seen them, and that sort of thing…"

"That sounds amazing!" Phelan answered honestly, feeling like a jolt of electricity had shot right through him at this news.

"Have a think about it, but we'd be more than happy to have you!"

"Thank you very much!" Phelan left that office feeling in a daze – but not like the dreary daydream of before, but invigorated and excited. _This _was the sort of thing he had been looking forwards to – and the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau wanted him!

Once back in the little office that he had been occupying for the past few months and felt like an explosion of happiness had gone off inside him. Very slowly, he pulled out the letter of resignation that he had written, placed it on the desk in front of him, pointed his wand at it and muttered: "Incendio." The letter burst into flames and burnt itself out until it was nothing more than a smouldering pile of ash. Perhaps this was showing him that he had just needed to hold on that little bit longer, to find out what he was meant to be doing.

Phelan Noel – dragon researcher… He _definitely _liked the sound of that!

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**A/N: (can you tell that I'm currently looking for a job - definite wish fulfillment in this piece!) However, I hope you enjoyed reading it, I'd love to hear what you think! :)**


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